


Evergreen

by StoneCauldron



Category: TSV - Fandom, TwoSet, Twosetviolin, Video Blogging RPF, twoset violin
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Romance, Translation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:42:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29235510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoneCauldron/pseuds/StoneCauldron
Summary: Love is an everlasting journey. Half of their lives had flown by, yet they had never parted ways.- A translated Breddy fanfic "走马"（Zou Ma） by 栾叶(Luan Ye).
Relationships: Eddy Chen & Brett Yang, Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29





	Evergreen

**Author's Note:**

> This is a completed one shot.
> 
> A translated Breddy fanfic "走马"（Zou Ma） by 栾叶(Luan Ye).  
> Original: https://iiella.lofter.com/post/434975_1cadf8e95

  
  


Evergreen – Breddy 

This is a completed one shot. A translated Breddy Chinese fanfic "走马"（Zou Ma） by 栾叶(Luan Ye). 

Original: https://iiella.lofter.com/post/434975_1cadf8e95

Summary: Love is an everlasting journey. Half of their lives had flown by, yet they had never parted ways.

1.

It was a drunk summer night the year of their high school graduation. Eddy pressed him to the balcony and kissed him.

The clock hit midnight; stars shone brightly in the southern hemisphere.

Brett always remembered that kiss. He remembered it for many, many years.

2.

Runners, game consoles, and half-finished soft drinks. In the afternoon, light spilled into the room through old-fashioned curtains. The attic felt like something straight out of the last century.

The two boys watched Star Wars prone on their elbows. They had done so a hundred times, to the point Eddy could recount the next line with his eyes closed. Every time they had nothing to do but wanted an excuse to hang out, they watched this.

They were quiet as if scared to wake this retro summer's day. Peach-flavored soft drinks and game disks piled on the ground. In between the curtains, a thin ray of sunlight illuminated specks of dust in the air. The boy wearing shorts and long socks was propped up in bed.

"Are we always going to be like this? You know, stay this close for our entire lives," Eddy turned his head to look at Brett.

Brett also tilted his head to look at him.

"Yeah," he said. "I can't think of a reason not to."

Eddy thought about it intently, "Me neither."

"Then let's stay this close for the rest of our lives."

"Brett," Eddy's eyes shone brightly. "Let's live together when we grow up."

Brett nodded and extended his finger to make a pinky promise.

Satisfied with the promise, Eddy rolled onto his back, accidentally pressing the remote control. Darth Vader's evil monologue on the screen came to a sudden stop.

He looked up at the ceiling and bit on his icy pole stick, "Then when do we grow up–"

Many years later, Brett realized that maybe he was already in love with Eddy, even back then.

You couldn't find a better person than Eddy in this world.

He would stay still in the same position for hours, just so Brett who slept on his shoulders wouldn't wake up. He would run in the sweltering heat to get Brett's favorite gelato, panting yet upbeat as he stuffed the box of ice cream into Brett's hand. He would lie on the sofa and blow devotedly on Brett's swollen fingertips from violin strings. He remembered whether Brett liked his eggs sunny side up or over easy. He remembered the extra glances Brett cast at a window display to buy him that gift for the most unconventional holidays ("Happy Arbor Day!"). He was vibrant, sensitive, and gentle; so that he could hear Brett's walled up emotions from the slightest tremors of his bow, and drop everything to be there for him, every single time.

It was hard to not fall in love with Eddy.

He loved Eddy – of course he did. He had never loved anyone the way he loved Eddy.

3.

Naturally, a boy like Eddy was never short of admirers.

They had grown up. Eddy was tall, funny, more irresistible than ever. He learned to watch Eddy bend down and kiss the girl in his arms, watch him wink and tell her jokes. Eddy was captivating, his energy like the never-setting sun. Every day he would go and see her, fresh with a hundred ways to make her laugh.

The girl was quite lovely, and Eddy was happy as a lark. They locked fingers strolling on the street, underneath Brisbane's glaring sun. It was midsummer with flowers blooming.

He had imagined a thousand times what a loving and perceptive person like Eddy would be like when he was in a committed and passionate relationship.

Now he knew. It was better than a million scenarios he had imagined.

Brett reckoned he should have nothing to commiserate about. He liked girls too; he just liked Eddy more.

It's just sometimes, he didn't know how to fill the void in his chest.

Eddy was going to Europe with his girlfriend, in the name of prepping for their first world tour. Of course, Brett nodded and said yes.

He thought he can finally let go of the breath he had been holding. But perhaps he suddenly loosened up too much, because he got sick right after Eddy left.

He had always been the less healthy of the two; when they were kids, he was always the one to catch the flu. But back then Eddy didn't see a problem with that. He would stay at Brett's house all day to "take care of his friend", get under his blanket to huddle while they chatted and read manga together. If Brett's fever got better, they could even play video games. They just had to be quiet, or else their parents would know.

His headache was bad, and it was so cold that he's shivering. He knew he had a fever. In the dizziness of the delirium, he was reminded of their childhood: the small boy in white socks who came and checked on him, imitated adults by touching his forehead for the temperature, blowing softly on it to cool him down.

It was very quiet. Brett thought in a dazed half-sleep. When had it ever been this quiet ever since he met Eddy?

Eddy rescheduled his flight to come home two days early from Europe and headed straight to Brett's house. He still had a flight pillow on his neck as he sat in front of Brett's bed, baseball cap on his head and two large suitcases dragged behind him.

Brett was white as a sheet.

He was still groggy from the fever and didn't even wake up when Eddy came in. Eddy sighed and touched his hand.

It was awfully cold.

Eddy let out an inaudible sigh and gripped Brett's hand in his palm.

Brett woke up to see his hand being held by Eddy, so for a moment, he couldn't tell if he was dreaming. Eddy woke up from his slight movement.

"Shouldn't you be in Europe?"

Eddy yawned, "Well, it's all because of a certain someone."

Brett was a little stunned, "But wouldn't your girlfriend be mad?"

"Mad or not, I still had to come," Eddy grinned, "Look at yourself man, I'm only gone for a few days and you get yourself into this mess?"

It wasn't just a few days, he thought. But outwardly he laughed sluggishly, "If I knew this could trick you, then I'll play sick every day."

His voice was hoarse from sickness. The laugh sounded a little forced.

"I'll come even if you're only pretending," for once Eddy didn't laugh. He lightly patted the tip of Brett's hair, "Go back to bed, sleep a little longer."

He took off the baseball cap and rid his neck of the travel pillow, "I'll make you something to eat."

Brett rolled over in bed, "You can't cook at all, don't set my kitchen on fire."

Eddy protested from afar, "I'm clearly improving!"

Brett smiled as he closed his eyes, listening to the sound of banging pots and pans.

I love him, he thought. I'm going to do my best to treat him well, make him laugh, and keep him safe for the rest of my life.

Summer ended and Eddy decided to move out with his girlfriend.

Brett was a little taken aback but said "of course" and helped him pack. They laughed nonchalantly as one by one, everything Eddy left a trace on was put in boxes, zipped up, and shipped away in trucks.

Brett always thought he was clear-headed, conscious of the inevitable so that he wouldn't be bitter. Yet it felt as though he couldn't breathe.

He looked at Eddy's closet, it was empty save for some last pieces of clothing.

"Keep some clothes here," he said with his back turned to Eddy, voice lighthearted as if to convince himself, "It's not like you're never coming back."

Eddy was a little startled but agreed with "of course".

Brett kept his back towards Eddy the entire time, so he missed the countless times Eddy tried to repress the anguish in his eyes.

"Brett —" Eddy hesitated for a long time when it was time to go, finally turning around to take his hand, "Nothing will change."

Eddy stared plainly into Brett's eyes, inside them were words he hadn't been able to say his whole life. He hoped Brett understands. And how could Brett not?

Brett couldn't form a coherent sentence, so he only nodded and said, "Of course."

The car left and he returned to the apartment. The afternoon sun illuminated their houseplant, its leaves outstretched, striking lonesome in the empty living room. Eddy had named it Sibelius. They were going to get a Bach too. But that didn't get to happen.

"Sibelius," he said to the plant, "It's just us now."

The sun set. Sunlight illuminated specks of dust floating in the air.

Meanwhile, Eddy was in the midst of afternoon rush hour. He took a deep breath as orange taillights projected onto his face.

To move forward and not look back.

It was way too tough.

Brett saw Eddy less and less.

There were all kinds of excuses to avoid someone. They used to stick together like two peas in a pod, even if they were too busy to find time to sleep. But now it was as if they didn't even have the time to grab meals together.

They had grown up. Brett said to himself.

If truth be told, he knew Eddy loved him too. Even in Eddy's most enamored states, he never made Brett feel left out. Even in Eddy's busiest times, he didn't ignore Brett's feelings. That afternoon when Eddy moved — his eyes were so apologetic that Brett was at a loss for what to do.

Eddy had consistently treated him well; nothing has changed from 13 until now. Everything between them was pure as the driven snow, even stronger than the test of time, rare and luminous in this world.

Brett would rather hide from it than destroy it himself.

It was 2 A.M. Eddy called but Brett didn't pick up. The phone buzzed and its screen lit up, until finally, it dimmed.

The pale moon hung low outside; the room was cast in a dark blue hue. Brett laid on his bed, arm over his eyes.

He thought of that summer high school graduation party a few years ago, and the drunk kiss on the balcony.

He didn't understand–was that friendship, lust, or love?

4.

He didn't know how Eddy found him. But ever since they were kids, Eddy could always find him.

Eddy stood in front of him. But Brett just wanted to bypass him, he was drunk and didn't want to say the wrong thing. Still, Eddy firmly blocked him, so Brett had to look up.

"We never do this."

"We've grown up," Brett took a sip of his alcohol.

"Grown-ups communicate," Eddy snatched his glass away, "Can we stop with the silent treatment?"

Brett wanted to give a wry smile, but just looked elsewhere, "Silent treatment? If you ever even thought about me for one second, you wouldn't say that."

The sorrow in his words startled both people for a moment. As if knowing he said the wrong thing, Brett sighed, "We've grown up, Eddy. Please, just be more understanding."

"Grown up?" Eddy's eyes turned red, "You're still trying to use this as an excuse?"

Brett couldn't bear to see Eddy in this state, he needed to leave before he got out of control. But Eddy grabbed him by the arms, pushed him to the wall with sizable force, and kissed him almost roughly.

The kiss was too deep. It was full of lust, complicated love, and desperate persuasion for him to stay, hot as a freshly bleeding wound. Alcohol mixed with Eddy's breath was overwhelming, and Brett couldn't resist.

"Is this what you want?", Eddy gasped for breath, the impulsivity in his eyes slowly replaced by sorrow, "If so, I can give it to you. I can give you anything."

Brett was frozen in place, fists clenched so that his entire body didn't tremble.

That was never what he wanted. He didn't want this kiss.

He had never felt so exposed, held hostage to the point he couldn't move. Anyone could reach inside his chest, grab his crumpled hidden heart and tear it apart; to reveal his silent, soft, unalterable love that he has had for years.

A kiss so easily destroyed everything he had been trying to protect, killed the inexplicable connection between them, with its remains framed and defined as lust.

He didn't want this kiss.

"Let go," he whispered, "let go."

He pushed Eddy away and left.

He walked in the wind with his head down, helplessness and regret seeped into his heavy heart. It hurt so much that he almost sank to his knees.

They didn't talk for days.

Late autumn came like a tide crashing into the city, it was as if they stood at isolated islands, gazing at each other from afar.

On a cold night with a crescent moon, someone knocked on the door. Brett walked to the door in slippers and a fleece jacket, the door opened, and Eddy buried his fluffy head into Brett's shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

The heat of Eddy's body could be felt through the collar, the familiar warmth made Brett's heart quiver. He had a thousand different things to say at that moment, but the late autumn wind blew through the door, and he saw Eddy in a thin shirt. So he opened his mouth, only to say, "Gosh, why are you wearing so little?"

Eddy didn't speak.

Brett let him come in and took off his jacket to hand to Eddy, then boiled the kettle to make a pot of Eddy's favorite pomelo tea.

Eddy was very quiet, holding the cup in both hands and sipping slowly. It was only when the cup was almost empty, that he spoke up.

"I can't live without you."

A short silence.

Brett mumbled, "I can't either."

His voice dissipated in the chill air. That was his sincerest confession.

Eddy fixed his gaze on him. In Eddy's eyes were clear and irrefutable love; struggle; and his frailty, impulsivity, and regret that he hid deep inside.

Everything that needed to be said was in those eyes. They knew between the two of them, there was nothing that they couldn't forgive, nothing that they couldn't make up for, there was no wound that couldn't be fathomed and healed. They never left each other's hearts, not even for a second.

"Do you want to get bubble tea?" Eddy asked.

"Oh yeah, I'm dying for a cup of bubble tea."

"Let's go?"

"Let's go."

They crossed nighttime streets and naturally put each other's hands in their own pockets for warmth, just like when they were kids. Silvery moonlight fell softly on them as if this was of their secret adventures many years ago.

Another half a year had passed, Eddy broke up with his girlfriend and came to see him late at night with bottles of liquor on hand.

Brett opened the door. Under the dim moonlight, they drank silently on the couch, glass after glass. Eddy was extremely tired and heartbroken, so soon he fell asleep on his shoulder. He saw Eddy's sleep-deprived dark circles and couldn't bear to wake him up. So, Brett let him lean on him, and sat motionless on the sofa for the entire night.

From moonrise to moonset, in those long, silent seconds, Eddy's warm breathes rose and fell on his neck. Brett had enough time to confirm with himself again and again, 'I still love him'.

A while later, Eddy had a new girlfriend, but still went over to Brett's place every few days. "Today we had a fight"; "today we made up"; "her mom doesn't seem to like me"; "she said she likes the chocolate cake you taught me to make"; "she insisted that I accompany her to Japan, so I might not go with you this time."

"It's ok," Brett said calmly.

He had learned how to deal with these things. He watched people in Eddy's life come and go, the pain that once tore him apart was now so mild that he could barely feel it. He still loved Eddy. His love crawled deep underneath his skin, into places that no one could reach; it was like old roots that couldn't be disentangled, growing into his heart and soul.

He had started to realize, loving someone doesn't mean he needed them to be his.

5.

It had been fourteen years since they met, and they were still close as ever.

They performed together, embraced, and laughed together amidst the crowd and the stage lights. They went to countries after countries, walked side by side on bridges, in city centers, on mountain ridges that extended beyond sight. They flew across the ocean in darkness, and saw the subdued sunrise on clouds 20, 000 meters above the ground.

Brett slept soundly beside him, Eddy watched as the golden sunlight illuminated Brett's brows and nose ridge, and his heart filled with warmth.

I love him, he thought. I'm going to do my best to treat him well, make him laugh, and keep him safe for the rest of my life.

They ordered different flavors of bubble tea and traded so that they could try both. In the dessert bar, they beamed like little boys staring at the enticing ice-cream sundaes. Brett got a little chocolate on his mouth, so Eddy tapped the corner of Brett's mouth ever so naturally.

They took silly tourist photos in front of landmarks, did a 'Naruto Run' in the snow, stuffed snowballs down each other's collars, laughed until they couldn't stand still, and finally fell into the blanket of snow huddled together like a ball. Brett tilted his head up, nose red and laughing so hard that he couldn't breathe. It was the dead of winter, their breaths fused together into a fog. Eddy caught him by the wrist and had the sudden urge to kiss him.

They wore backpacks for shopping and waited patiently in line at the museum. Brett buried his nose in the museum map, Eddy leaned over to look, their two heads huddled together like children.

They even got lost in Munich. It was a rainy night and streetlights crystallized in water puddles. Eddy subconsciously tilted much of his umbrella into Brett's direction. Long golden silks of rain drizzled onto Eddy's left shoulder.

Brett was focused on Google Maps, so he didn't see how intently Eddy looked at him.

And at the end of all their journeys, a beam of light fell onto the center stage. They performed seamless duets underneath the light. Melodious music flowed – the entire world fell into a gentle silence.

They bowed deeply to the audience, smiling at each other amidst the cheers and flowers. Their hearts connected. Their souls were close. They walked shoulder to shoulder under the sun and could not see the end to their joyous days.

They simply never mentioned that kiss; never mentioned everything that they both knew deep inside. It was as if they were dancing on a fragile river of ice in springtime. And like that, they continued the cautious yet earnest dance, day after day, year after year.

I love him, they just looked at each other and thought quietly. I'm going to do my best to treat him well, make him laugh, and keep him safe for the rest of my life.

They had a party and got hammered on the night that their world tour ended.

It had been ten years since their high school graduation. So much time had passed, yet they found themselves back on another one of those summer nights. Stars were shining brightly in the southern hemisphere. It seemed like only yesterday.

They were too drunk; all secrets came clean.

They were so incredibly rational, too rational – to stay silent for all these years, out of fear of ruining their friendship.

"Brett–" Eddy hollered at him drunkenly, "You remember–"

His eyes seemed to sparkle with tears, but he laughed and raised his glass to Brett, "Everything between us – that was real."

His hands were shaking so hard that most of the liquor spilled out of the glass. City lights zoomed past, reflecting off the glimmer in his tears.

It was as if Brett's heart was burnt through with molten lead, it hissed and dribbled into hot tears that fell everywhere. He understood the significance of Eddy's statement.

"I remember."

He remembered all the unsaid words, all those moments of laughter and intimacy; remembered the blurred line between friendship and love; remembered their struggles, remorse, and silent compromises.

Eddy looked at him tenderly and wistfully, he looked too exhausted to hide the glaringly obvious love that he hid for years. Brett's heart swelled and ached gently.

Eddy loved him. Eddy also loved him for many, many years.

Peach flavored soft drinks and Star Wars in the attic on an afternoon, Queensland Youth Orchestra, Sydney Opera House, that reckless kiss on the balcony.

"Stay this close for the rest of our lives."

"When do we grow up–"

"I can give you anything."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Brett, you remember–"

Eddy's eyes were red as he finished the little bit of wine left in one gulp.

"I remember."

All those regrets in all these years – now all swept along the river under the moon, washed away into the sea.

Many years ago, in a Brisbane attic one afternoon, a boy grabbed the hand of another boy.

"Let's stay this close for the rest of our lives."

An entire lifetime – what a sincere and sacred promise.

Half of their lives had flown by, yet they had never parted ways.


End file.
